Mad World
by RaiseTheBodyCount
Summary: Harleen Quinzel finds herself in the clutches of the joker after he out-of-characterly rescues her from a brutal beating. with thoughts of trouble and chaos brewing will the Joker use Harley as a puppet of will he see something more? JokerXHarley Quinn
1. Description

**Harleen Quinzel, 17 and aspiring to be the next biggest thing in the psychologist world gets furled into a life of crime after a night of abuse. An attempted runaway after a night of abuse leads to her cornered in a Gotham ally begging for her life. Another beating to near death and before the assailant can finish the job who comes to her rescue, why none other than …the joker? No Dark Knight here just a man with no solid plan saving a young woman from death. Out of character eh? No because what he has in store for young Harleen is right up his chaotically grotesque alley. But what will he do when he finds something more than just a disposable puppet in this girl? Take a look and find out**


	2. Walking Into Danger

The TV blared in the living room as blundering laughter followed an announcers gag. I rolled my eyes not being able to hear myself think let alone concentrate on a paragraph. A thud followed the slamming of the book on my bed. I stood from my sitting position and made my way towards the noise. Our dimly lit apartment was filled with the smell of battered chicken being dipped in boiling grease. The grotesque smell always made me sick, the boiling fat and grease crackle, I was repulsed. My parent and step parent, uneducated and welfare stealing, sat watching some comedy show just like every night. They had no verve nor did they have any desire to better themselves and way of living with a job. As long as there was food on the table, no matter how inedible, and a roof over our heads, even though it was falling in, they were ok with it. I cleared my throat and got their attention from sheer annoyance and nothing else.

"What?!" Randy, my step father nearly screamed trying to usher me away from the TV with a hand sweep.

"Would you mind keeping down in here?" I asked as politely as humanly possible, at least for me anyways.

"Just so you can read some book that you don't understand?!" he let out a snicker. "yeah right" he increased the volume.

My temper was to the point of boiling over. Insulting my intelligence AND laughing at my attempts. I was on the edge now and about to make a very bad and quick tempered mistake.

"at least I'm trying instead of sitting around and stuffing my face, being a disgrace to society" I had overstepped a line there.

I slowly backed up as he rose from his recliner. He walked towards me with a grim look of scorn in his eyes. Now towering over me ,we were mere inches away. He raised a single arm tattooed and bulging with the fat accumulated from the byproduct junk they consumed daily. In one swift move his fist made contact with the right side of my face sending me to the floor. I sat back up quickly being used to this abuse. He continued to stare down at me as he loomed.

"that psychologist dream of yours, it's a waste and your nothing but a joke" I nearly froze as he uttered this through heavy jowls.

I could feel a tear or two start welling but left the room before they had a chance to roll softly down my pale cheeks. Once in my room I made a resolve. The tears stopped as I began stuffing a back pack full of some clothes and my books. Picking up my last volume a paper slipped out and onto the floor. I bent down and picked it up flipping it over to read what was scrawled across it.

_Dr. Harleen Quinzel _

I laughed a bit. My dream was not a waste, too many hours with my nose in a book for that. I zipped up the zipper after shoving whatever money I could find in the house in. I cracked my only window letting a gust of cool night air in. In seconds I was on and down the fire escape with an eloquent landing on the sidewalk below.

I had taken gymnastics from ages six to fifteen and I was damn good. My actual father used to take me , back when he was still around. When he was alive and well life was good. Picnics, family trips and all the love any daughter could ask for. When he died I felt like I had died. My mother was never the nurturing type, quiet and non confrontational. In my entire life we had hardly exchanged words let alone carried on a conversation. When she met her new husband-to-be Randy I had hopes, hopes that soon came shattering down around me as he turned out to be an abusive drunk not at all into having a step-daughter.

I continued to ponder as I made my way down sidewalks. It felt as if some kind of weight had been lifted. Like the chains of confinement had been broken as I walked free among the streets. Everything felt so good, but unfortunately nothing lasts forever and for me it wasn't about to last more than twenty minutes


	3. It's Your World, But It's My Street

Cool midnight breezes caressed the beaten flesh on the side of my face. Surprisingly it didn't swell, just merged in to a light chameleonic blue. Once the 'freedom high' had worn I became apprehensive. This wasn't exactly the best neighborhood to be caught walking in at midnight. This was the center of the multiple gangs and crime mobs in Gotham. Out in the distance sirens squealed and in the black nights sky a bright bat symbol made itself present to all of Gotham's inhabitants. The uneasiness subsided knowing the Dark Knight was out tonight.

A couple blocks down with no sure destination I pondered where I'd go, what I would do. I broke off the thought as a half illuminated alleyway came into view. I felt like either sprinting as fast as possible by it or finding another way around. I had passed over a dozen alleys at this point but this one, I had a bad feeling about it. Everything was quiet, even the never ending sirens that chimed day-in-day-out in Gotham were silenced. I took a breathe and moved forward.

The corner where the alleyway turned in came closer until I stood adjacent to it. Slowly I crooked my head and neck to where I could peer down the alley without being noticed. There was nothing but darkness. The rats that ate from the trash made no noise and loose papers that blew into the alley did not crumple or twist in the breeze that just picked up. I swallowed the lump in my throat and began to walk across. Every nerve in my body told me to run, to get away, to do something other than continue on this path, but it all came seconds too late.

A guy, not too much older than me, stepped out from a secluded step of a shop front ahead of me. I took a step of surprise back bumping into another mans chest. They had me trapped.

"Little late, Dontcha think?" he stepped towards me.

The man behind me held a shoulder in each hand, restricting my movement. The other drew closer looking me over, I scowled as he came in near. He then smirked and nodded to the man behind me and in one move turned and led me into the darkened alley I had just braved. We walked deeper and deeper into the alley until we came to a back street. The man had such a tight grip I couldn't even manage to squirm beneath him.

Finally we stopped. The streetlights were brighter here and illuminated every face that was present. Mine, the two men who had brought me here and their five or six other friends who awaited our arrival. The men all turned from their conversations. They drew closer. Every part of me shook at the fear of what they could and were probably going to do to me. Then something came to me, the bat symbol that lit up the sky earlier. Confidence struck me and nearly all the pent fear subsided.

"Isn't it a bit late for ah" he look me up and down once more. "pretty thing like you to be out" closely quoting the other guy from earlier.

I didn't reply to him. The only thing I was giving were looks of disgust and an eye roll or two. He busted into a small fit of laughter then composed himself. I was curious to what he found so humorous.

"you really think he's coming dontcha?" he laughed again.

My eyes widened. He read me like an open book and saw were my burst of bravado had come from. I wasn't so up beat any more.

"Well your wrong" he smirked and gave an eye signal to the man behind me.

It was received and I was thrust forward into the group of misfits before me. I felt like I was in a mosh. They threw me back and forth grabbing and tugging at me, ripping and pulling at my clothes. I was then thrown to the cobbled and rocky ground. The man who had spoken before came to the front of the writhing gang. He smiled then blew me a kiss. Without any delay he jumped forward landing a swift kick into my abdomen. It stunned me and prepared me for what was about to be one of the worst experiences of my life.

With some sick systems they all took turns with the apparent strive of taking my life. By now my clothes were bloodied and my skin was bruised. I spit up a decent amounts of blood onto the ground once they stopped. My vision blurred and I could barely move. Everything either ached, burned or had gone numb. The freedom I had had was gone within less than an hour but what really hit me was the absence of the so called Batman. He was no city savior nor was he any kind of hero, at least not to me now. Who I presumed to be their leader once again came to the front. I could barely here or see. As if he knew my disabilities he leaned in and spoke up in my ear.

"Goodnight, sweetheart" if I could feel anything other than pain at that moment it would have been revulsion and shock that ran from head-to-toe.

I watched as he stepped back raising a steel toed boot in the air. I shut my eyes and prepared for the impact. It never came. With strain I looked to see why he had not ended me yet, as if I wanted to know. Bright white headlights broke into the back street. I watched as they all strained to see but as they noticed the driver they turned and fled into the street. I heard the car slowly creep through the street then stop upon where I lay. The lights blinded what vision I had left but as a car door shut a mans figure began to pass through the light and towards me. I wanted to wriggle or try and hobble away even though this man had just rescued me.

Leaning down he placed his arms beneath me and scooped me up with near to no strain. I was surprised at his strength and the strange comfort I felt in his arms. He walked me around and opened a backseat door. Promptly and gently he sat me inside then went around to the drivers seat. As we drove thoughts raced in my head. Where are we going? What is this man thinking? But the most prominent one was something around What was going to happen to me?


	4. Meet Your Hero

I could feel the warm sticky blood drying and staining my golden locks. I watched the city blur by as the mystery man continued to drive. The car was well furnished with leather seats and comfortable seating. I was positioned to where I could watch the man without moving. His outline revealed somewhat shaggy hair and a muscular build. Like a statue he focused on the road ahead and the destination it led to. Tired was an understatement of my current condition, I was utterly exhausted. I sunk into the cushy upholstery of my saviors backseat quickly slipping into a deep slumber.

Awaking to bright lights I hastily rose from my laying position. Before having a chance to assess my new surroundings a surge of acute pain fired through me, forcing my body back down onto the bed I had been placed on. I turned my head to try and look once more. I was in someone's bedroom. The colors of the room made me feel cozy and warm. Dark velvety reds pressed to a variation of brown tan colored the beautiful room. There were no windows but there was a closet and a bathroom.

Building my stamina I was finally able to sit up on the bed. The mattress was soft but firm in all the right places. There must have been at least ten or twelve pillows stacked perfectly in a sort of stairway to the large mahogany head board that framed the bed elegantly. I lowered my self onto them as dizziness overtook me. keeping propped enough to see but low enough for my woozy state to subside my eyes roamed the room. Feeling stable I swung my legs over the side of the tall bed sliding down the sheets slowly. My feet burned as the touched the icy wooden floor. It was odd for a wooden floor to be so frigid but by this point everything was odd or off in some way so I really didn't pay much attention. Stumbling around and getting a closer look at everything I finally reached the bathroom and with a quick pull of a shiny silver knob I let myself in.

The tile floor was just as cool as the wooden one in the bedroom. I shut the door behind me after catching a glimpse of the full mirror that hung on the back of it. Looking myself over I shuddered as I examined the clothes I was wearing. A large T-shirt and shorts. I remembered my original outfit, jeans and a blouse, this was far from it. I ran my hand along the granite vanity till they reached the sink. I looked up from the bowl seeing my reflection in another more rounded mirror. I was a mess. Bloodied hair and beaten body, it wouldn't do. I flipped the silver knob that sent cool water flowing from the faucet.

After grooming as best I could I stepped out of the bathroom. I must have circled the room four times by this point, two for examination, one in admiration and the last in boredom. I sluggishly walked to the edge of the bed and plopped down, resting my hands on the wooden footboard at the end. I sighed, what was I supposed to do? Must I wait or seek out the mystery man? I shook my head in frustration. As I looked up and towards the door I thought of just walking out then all the possibilities and probable consequences came to mind. I made up my mind and stood putting my plan to action. My fingers rested on the glinting knob preparing to grasp and pull. In the second of the action a small noise came from the other side of the door and in the next second my week pull was thrust in on me.

Falling back onto the floor and began squirming backwards as a low maniacal cackle crept from the darkness outside the door. The thud of a heavy boot bounced off the walls. My back was now flat against the footboard. I wasn't so much scared as I was shocked, surprised. The man stepped forward into the light, my eyes widened. I stared thoughtlessly up at non other than Gotham's 'Clown Prince of Crime', as the papers always deemed him. He laughed at my expression then extended a hand towards me. Slowly I accepted it and let him pull me up. It was strange seeing him in person, I had always seen him in the news whether on paper or television but he seemed so much more everything as he stood there. The ghostly pale skin, crimson lips and evergreen hair, it was all there. I caught myself somewhat marveling for a second.

"Nice to have you with us, _Mrs. Quinzel"_ his voice was gruff but fluent and steady.

The sound of my name rolled gently down towards my ears. I almost began to speak before I realized something. How did he know my name? he could tell by my face the question in my head then slowly pulled a slip of paper from his coat pocket. _Harleen _and_ Quinzel_ were separated by his gloved middle and index with which he held the long forgotten paper I had thrown in my bag last minute.

"We're honored to have you" he placed the paper back into his jacket then stepped forward with an open hand to help me from the floor

I was more than reluctant to take it but I couldn't overstep his kindness or the face front of it. I gently place my hand in his and with sheer strength was pulled to my feet just inches away from him. Nervously I took a step back , not realizing the offense I stood completely still almost paralyzed. He laughed at my actions.

"please, make yourself at home" he gestured a hand out to the bed, obviously wanting me to take a seat.

"Why?" I brought things to a stopping point before taking a place on the divan. He looked confused and intrigued.

"why did you save me? Bring me here and take me in like a guest? It's just not normal!" I escalated into a breakdown taking in the beating and stress of events fully.

His laugh filled the room as he slid in close beside me, leaning down making sure I listened to his words.

"My dear Quinn" he cupped my chin. "No one is normal, especially me!" his soft tender words blew into malice filled commands. I hadn't realized my edging away until he pulled back and jumped from the bed.

"Quinn? Harleen- Harley. Harley Quinn!" he laughed getting back into usual mood.

"like the clown?" I piped from my place on the bed

He smiled, devious and rotten from ear to ear as he stared at me with toxic green eyes.

"Exactly"


	5. Jokes

After making his scene in the bedroom Joker forcefully ushered me into a tour of their "home" which was an empty well furnished warehouse outside the city. Fluorescent lights illuminated the entire complex; there was absolutely no light getting in or out of this place. We continued on around a few privacy walls until we walked into a makeshift living room. There was a reclining chair, an old sofa and a TV. There was something sitting in the middle of the couch and curiously I peeked to see what had caught my eye. It was my backpack I had taken when I left. Wondering from the tour I went to retrieve it. Joker turned to find me siphoning through it on the musty couch. He joined me taking a seat in the chair. I pulled out a couple of my books and placed them on the arm rest as I continued digging. Joker quietly snatched one and read the cover.

"Psychology" I heard his voice slice through the silence then stopped to look.

"I-It's a passion of mine" I awkwardly laughed

"hmm…ah why don't you show me what you got then, kiddo" he seemed eager for a demonstration.

"w-well" I studdered

"So c'mon" he pressed further

"I can't" I lowered my reddened face.

A puzzled look came over his face as he sat back in his chair. Was mortified.

"And why?" the way he sat made him look as though he was the psychologist.

"I'm not any good. My stepfather, he called me a joke" I could feel the tears welling in my already sore eyes.

Mixed emotions filled the Jokers face as he paused in his chair. Then he smile and with his index and thumb pulled my chin up. Through blurry eyes his eyes looked devious but his broken smile seemed welcoming.

"I happen to like jokes" there was a usual hint of laughter in his tone but that came naturally. Despite my trifling position I managed to smile. That's what he secretly seemed to want anyways.

I put the books away as Joker led me on the rest of the tour. There was no expectance of what could happen next but all I knew was that this was were I would stay. He was the one I wanted to stay with


End file.
